The Un-Real World
by SpaceCowboyMedic
Summary: Jimmy & Bosco story. Completed. Jimmy is afraid to leave his apartment and it's up to Bosco to convince him otherwise. Also, this is another story self-hijacked from one of my other fandoms.


  
The Un-Real World  
****************  
  
  
"Jimmy! I know you're in there! Answer your door!" screamed Bosco, as he rapped repeatedly on the door.  
  
"There's no one here! Go away!" replied Jimmy's muffled voice.  
  
Bosco frowned. "Then who the hell am I talking to now?"  
  
There was a moment of silence. "Uh...plumber, sir."  
  
Bosco pounded on the door again. "Jimmy! This isn't funny!"  
  
"There's no Jimmy here...Thank-you. Come again."  
  
Frustrated, Bosco kicked at the door. "You can't hide from this forever! They *will* find you!"  
  
"Well, they WILL if you keep shouting my name!!"  
  
"Ha! I knew you were in there!" exclaimed Bosco, shaking a finger at the closed door.  
  
"Damn!" the firefighter, mentally kicking himself. "But you still can't make me come out! There's no way I'm gonna let those girls get a hold of me!"  
  
Bosco glanced at his watch. Jimmy didn't want to leave his apartment and Bosco was getting fed up. But he couldn't show up without the firefighter, the scenes would be too much to bare. He tried again to convince Jimmy to come with him.  
  
Negating the knocking, and choicing a soft, comforting voice, Bosco leaned close to the door. "Jimmy...it won't be that bad. Nothing's going to happen to you."  
  
"Can you promise me that, Bosco? Can you guaruntee my safety?" came back Jimmy's voice, shaking and dripping with fear.  
  
Bosco didn't know how to answer. Just over a year ago he may have been able to, but now- now was completely different. The rules had changed when fan fiction had been invented. There was no telling what could happen. "No, I can't make that promise," he sighed, leaning his forehead against the door. "We just gotta be brave. We gotta show them we can handle anything they throw at us."  
  
"US!" cried Jimmy, though the door. "Whatta ya mean, us?! I'm the one they're after! I'm the one with the coffin on standby! All you ever get is guilt trips!"  
  
Suddenly, Bosco lost it. "That's it, loser!...I'm comin in! Stand back!" He crouched low, took a step back and charged the door.   
  
A moment later he was sprawled on Jimmy's living room floor. He quickly scrambled to his feet, ready to grab the firefighter and run. But he wasn't ready for what he saw. Jimmy was sitting on the couch hugging a cushion, rocking back and forth, mumbling under his breath. *Oh, man. This is worse than I expected,* Bosco thought to himself, taken aback by Jimmy's composure...or lack there of.  
  
"No, Bosco. I'm not leaving," Jimmy mumbled, continuing his impression of a rocking chair. "I ain't leaving this apartment...They're gonna kill me...I know it...What else can they do?...They've already poisoned me, shot me, burned me, given me a hundred lovers. I'm just waiting to catch gonorhea!...I mean, what's left?...If I go to work...If I open that door...I'm dead. I'm a crispy critter. I'm a cratchety old man living in a cave, sipping cheap wine through a straw...No...No. I won't let that happen. I'm staying here till this craze is over."  
  
Bosco put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Jimmy, buddy, it's all in good fun. All the pain, death, lovers and angst are temporary, we do get our regular lives back on Monday nights; 9pm Eastern and 10pm Central. The nice safe ones in the television world."  
  
Jimmy stopped rocking long enough to stare at his friend. "Safe? You call that other world safe?! They beat the crab outta me on that one too! And man, did they ever make me a snake. I've mauled more women than Clinton! I don't know how much more I can take! I'm a person, damnit! Not a love machine!"  
  
"Well, at least they aren't allowed to kill you for real here."  
  
Jimmy nodded, conceding to the fact. "Yeah, at least they can't do that. It's very comforting to know that rule exists."  
  
"So, whatta ya say? You go get dressed and we'll face this world together," asked Bosco, slowly heading towards the now busted door.  
  
Jimmy shook his head, bolting for the recliner across the room. He grabbed onto the chair for dear life. "Uh uh. I'm still not leaving till this is over! And you can't make me!"  
  
Bosco grabbed his friend's legs and began pulling. "Come on, Jimmy. We're not doing this alone. If we go...you go too!"  
  
"Noooooooooooooooo!" cried Jimmy, as his body was dragged toward the door, the chair still tight in his grasp. "Leave me alone! I'm safe here!"  
  
Bosco stopped dragging, deciding to give reason one more try. "What makes you think you're safe here, huh? These writer's are the Gods of this Universe. They can go anywhere, do anything they want. There is no safe haven anywhere."  
  
"Damn...your right," stuttered Jimmy, releasing his death grip with the chair. "One writer even paralyzed me in my own bed." With an exagerated gesture, Jimmy stood up, brushing himself off. "I should really see about getting trasferred to another fandom. This one's just too dangerous."  
  
Bosco gave his friend a smile, clapped him on the back. "Now, don't go doing anything rash. Third Watch just wouldn't be the same without you."  
  
Jimmy nodded, a crooked grin working it's way onto his face. "Yeah. And what other fan fiction has such fine nurses." But Jimmy still wasn't completely convincved. He hesitated slightly before stepping into the hall. "You don't think there's a chance they might pick on some of the West Wing boys today, do ya?"  
  
Bosco shook his head. "Afraid not, buddy. It's us they love to mess with."  
  
"You mean me!" corrected Jimmy.  
  
"They pick on me too, ya know," replied Bosco, looking slightly hurt. "I've had my share of gun shots and lost loves."  
  
Jimmy smiled, shook his head. "Bos, face it, it's me...shhh...did you hear that?"  
  
Bosco cocked his head. "No. Hear what?"  
  
Giggle. Giggle. Giggle.  
  
"That," replied Jimmy, his eyse wide.   
  
Giggle. Giggle. Giggle.  
  
"Oh, that," Bosco said, waving his hand dismissively. "That's just the hundreds of girls who just got hired onto the third watch... Nope, sorry. The second one was one of the writers getting a marriage proposal from Bobby."  
  
Jimmy shrugged. "Oh, that's all?...They're starting early."  
  
"Yeah, we better hurry if we wanna catch the disclaimer," Bosco said, as he led the firefighter into the hall. "I think I hear them typing."  
  
"No, not yet. That's just the writing program opening."  
  
Bosco nodded. "Oh yeah, I forgot...So, do you wanna grab a coffee? We still got a few minutes."  
  
*** *** ***  
  
**Author's Note: This was just a little something I wrote all in good jest. Please do not take too seriously. Note, I did say 'too'. There is a bit of truth to this little opus, of which I am also guilty. Ever notice how the mysterious 'Mary Sue' character seems to pop up everywhere?  
  



End file.
